Not What It Used To Be
by Vietta
Summary: With Shinra operating within the strictures of the WRO, being a Turk is not what it used to be. Rated M for mature audiences. Eventual Reno/Tseng, possible other ships. Set two years after DOC
1. Blink

**Author's Note:**

** Hello, dear reader. This is my first attempt at a 100 Theme challenge. I intend to make this a 100 chapter continuous story as opposed to the theme challenges I always see where there are 100 one shots that don't really relate to each other aside from the ship they represent. **

** Strap yourselves in, this is going to be a long ride for all of us.**

**Timeline: Following the events of Dirge of Cerberus, approximately two years after game. (Year 2012)**

**Characters will vary. **

**Rating: M (for violence/gore, language, and overall adult situations that may or may not include smut but that are obviously not intended for everyone. I do NOT want children reading this.)**

**This story will be written in first person point of view and the character who is narrating the experience will be noted at the beginning of the chapter. Reno will be the main character, but others may be used.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII (not like we don't all fuckin know that xD)**

* * *

_**Reno's POV**_

**1. Blink**

_Blink. Breathe. Move. DO something!_

The darkness and pain are overwhelming. I can feel jagged rubble pressing into my skin, cutting through me. I can hear the cries of the dying and the crackling of flames. Parts of the plate are still raining down and crushing us all, burying some of us alive while giving others a sweet sudden release into the Lifestream as vital organs are forcefully shut down and spines are cracked like twigs. My own screams won't come, my throat is too choked with dust to make a sound. I'm having enough trouble pulling air through my grit-clogged mouth to even fill my lungs for a breath, let alone a scream. The dryness of my throat is only a minor discomfort compared to the new and terrifying sensation of being slowly crushed to death. I know that bones are broken, that some of the warmth I'm feeling is not from flames, but from blood. Still I claw at the rubble around me with broken and bleeding fingers, fighting to keep near the surface of the wreckage. I know that if I allow myself to be pulled beneath it all, any chance of rescue will be erased. I don't even know if they will come looking for me, I have no idea if there are civilians around the wreckage who would search for survivors. I thought I had been far enough from the plate to avoid being brought down with it. I had only paused for breath to watch my own mortifying handiwork bring the world crumbling down. I had just wanted a taste of the consequences of my actions, not the full meal.

Finally, I force my eyelids to open, seeing the rubble-crowded darkness for a few moments more before my own ceiling comes into focus. As the nightmare fades, I sit up, tossing away blankets that choke me. The sensation of being buried alive persists, as it always does, and I pull myself out of bed, forcing air into my lungs like a drowning man. My legs are shaky as I stagger to the bathroom, tripping over discarded clothing I had stripped away the night before in a drunken stupor. The drinking is supposed to protect me from the nightmares, the _memories_, but it doesn't work as often anymore. There are still nights where I get to remain blissfully unaware of what I've done, what I've been through, but this wasn't one of them.

I stand before the mirror, face dripping. I feel too old to look this young. The slow work of time on my face worries me, especially since Rude's beard is peppered with light tones already and he's only got four years of age on me. But here I am, still a shock of red and smooth skin between scars. Sure, maybe I've got a worry line here or there, but they aren't close to how I feel I should look. After all I've been through and all the terrible things that plague my sleep and my silences, I should be a latticework of lines and creases. Instead, here I am fresh faced and thirty, feeling like an old man.


	2. Fantasy

**2. Fantasy**

_**Reno's POV**_

"You're here early."

I yawn my displeasure from the couch in my office as Tseng steps in and makes for the coffee pot on my desk, tsking in annoyance when he realizes that the delightful scent of coffee is, as of right now, a cruel lie because the pot isn't brewed. I sit up, making room for him on the couch that he takes gullibly, and then I lay back down, resting my head on his leg. He doesn't comment on it and pulls out his tablet, a musical chime hitting my hangover like a slapping hand.

"Damn, that's loud." I wrinkle my nose, eyes closed as I settle into a more comfortable position on my couch, my arm thrown over my eyes and my legs dangling off the edge and kicking empty air.

"Hungover again?"

"Yup."

"Why here so early then? Usually you're late with those." Tseng's tablet makes a few more obnoxious noises and I groan audibly until he turns the sound off.

"Nightmare." It's a simple, honest answer. I've been getting better at those.

"You'll have more tonight, I'm sure." There is a deep sigh as he shifts, nearly displacing my head from his leg as he tries to get comfortably distant from me. I have this feeling that means I am not going to like what our morning meeting has in store.

Sitting up slowly, I ignore my spinning head and turn to face him. "Where am I going today, Tseng?"

A sigh is his initial answer and I feel my stomach clench. _Shit._I know that look, and I know the answer. "Please, Gaia, tell me you're not seriously sending me to Midgar."

"It's the only place we haven't fully checked for Fantasy. I have to." He won't meet my eyes, intent on his tablet. I want to smack him.

My nails cut into my palms and I stand, throwing open my window and letting in a cool taintless breeze. There's no more Reactor fueled smog here, Midgar has been settled into ruins long enough that Edge's air is clear of that particular poison. A stench still greets me with the opening of the window and I chase it away with a cigarette, plopping myself into my office chair and refusing to look at Tseng, staring instead at the ruins I'm being forced to perform reconnaissance in _again. _"What the fuck do you expect me to find in that hell hole, Tseng?"

"Answers, Reno. If the others were here, you know I'd send them instead." His voice is curt now, he's on the defensive as my anger boils and bites along my tongue.

"Oh yeah, 'cause it makes it so much better to know that Rude or Laney or poor, pathetic, new little Lee would be sent into that shitstorm." I take a deep drag, forcing smoke into my lungs to ease the tremble that's trying to work it's way from my heartbeat into my hands. Tseng knows what going to Midgar does to me, to all of us, but he also knows we have few options left. Fantasy is a dangerous new concoction that we can't find a source for. We've nabbed a few dealers, but they couldn't get us the answers we wanted. We don't know who is making it or how; all we have is a street name and a list of effects. Its spreading from recreational pastime to more sinister use as a daterape drug and I'm getting sick of seeing women and men alike in WRO specialist care because a heavy handed opportunist shattered their psyche with a few tablets in an unwatched drink.

"You're taking Avery in with you today."

"No I ain't."

"You are." Tseng's voice is stern, daring me to try and defy a direct order again.

We glare at each other in silence, our wills warring silently before I direct my gaze out the window again. "She'll slow me down. She's not ready for somethin' like that yet."

"She went through it already when she fought against Deepground, Reno. Remember; I pulled her from the WRO for a reason, but that reason wasn't because she can't handle it. She's ready to be a Turk." There's a reassuring confidence in his voice and I know he's right; Avery wouldn't be a Turk if she hadn't proved herself capable in the WRO and she sure as hell wouldn't be under my tutelage if she hadn't scored high on our tests.

That doesn't mean I want to drag the poor girl into hell. "Tseng, what makes you think any answers will be in Midgar?"

"Because if I were to try doing something illegal, I would have my base in those ruins. I'd carve a niche for myself amongst the decayed corpses and twisted scrap-metal and I'd brew my poisons there. That's why." I shudder and he continues tapping away on his tablet, his voice light as if I had asked him the weather. "I already told Avery to come in early for the debriefing. I trust you to take care of her in Midgar, just like you take care of her everywhere else."

I don't answer, lighting another cigarette and chucking the first butt out the window.


	3. Honey

**3. Honey**

_**Reno's POV**_

* * *

The coffee is done when Avery walks in, earlier than Tseng had asked her to be, with a spring in her step and a smile. I remember when I was excited for missions, but it's been a long time since I've really wanted to do anything but grimace over the work I'm assigned. Of course, things are different between the dirty blonde sitting across from my desk and myself. She's eager to please, new to her promotion, and unaware of where we're going today.

As is standard routine for us now, I pour coffee for the both of us, adding an extra cup for Tseng. Ever since Avery was assigned as my temporary partner and mentee, I've been pulling her aside for a morning meeting and coffee. It's the easiest way for me to get the day started and hell, the girl wasn't in the habit of drinking coffee before she came to us and if that isn't a damned shame then I don't know what is.

Black spills into white mugs as I pour, Avery's cup turning a pale brown from creamer I keep in a drawer near at hand. Tseng and I take ours strong and black, but Avery has yet to learn proper coffee tolerance and grimaces at the strength I brew into each pot. I pull a bottle of honey out of my special drawer, giving a generous dose into her cup before passing it to her, and she gives me a look, her lips pulling at the corners in a small frown.

"Reno, you only give me honey when you're about to do something awful to me." Those thin lips purse tighter, her eyes narrowing with them. "Sir, where are we being sent?" She directs the second question to Tseng, looking at the coffee suspiciously, almost like I've poured Zolom venom in her cup instead of sweetness.

"Midgar."

Her face blanches pale, tan skin turning a strange grey color at her answer, and the cup is pushed back my direction again. "More honey, please."

With a grim smile I ooze another generous dose into her mug.


	4. Meander

**4. Meandering**

_**Reno's POV**_

* * *

The drive out to Midgar is short, too short, and Avery fills it with questions that make it seem longer than it should by any right feel. I tried turning up the radio a bit, a subtle enough hint for most people to catch, but Avery either ignored it or didn't catch on.

"So, why is Tseng so convinced anyone would want to hide in Midgar? I mean, that place is so dangerous!" She's whining and I wanna deck her.

"He told you, he and Rufus are convinced that it's a perfect hiding spot. If I were a criminal, I'd wanna hide there too. No one in their right mind would go there, so people in their wrong mind would hide there without a second thought. Fuckin' think about it, Ave!" I am getting thoroughly aggravated.

"But that place is a polluted wreck! It's not safe!"

"You scared?"

"Aren't you?"

Hit the nail on the head with that question. She doesn't doubt Tseng at all, she and I are just in the same boat; we don't wanna be in Midgar. No one wants to go there. It's necessary, but after all the shit that has happened there in the past five years the place is heavily avoided. We've tried to clean it up, but that's one hell of a project and with the Remnants showing up and pulling their traumatic bullshit there and Deepground's current and past transgressions stemming from the damn hell hole, it never got done.

"Course I am." Honesty is the best policy, after all. "I just know that it needs to be done. We've checked everywhere else, so we have to check here too." Honestly, we could have been more thorough checking everywhere else first, in my opinion, but there are only six of us Turks left and WRO troops are still busy routing out what's left of Deepground so we really couldn't have been more studious in our attempts. We probably missed a lot, but we've been doing our best. "Look, Ave, nothin's gonna happen. Face it, people don't go to Midgar. It's frickin' awful." Tripping over rubble and finding bodies beneath it would make even the most hardened criminal shit his pants.

"You know that, I know that, so why are we scared still?" Poor girl looks like she's going to cry.

I shake my head, seeing those thin lips wobbling dangerously. She's not been a Turk for very long and, as such, she hasn't developed the kind of thick skin the rest of us have. It's like comparing cardboard to leather. She can hold things in, but eventually they're going to seep through. "Look, shorty, have I let anythin' shitty happen to you?"

"No."

"Do you trust me to keep shitty things from happenin' then?"

There's some hesitation before she nods, wiping her eyes on the back of her hands. I smile and pat her shoulder gently, parking outside the ruins we used to call home. "Then keep on trustin' me, Ave. Our priority is to crawl through this shithole and look for dealers, makers, or users. We gotta find at least one and the quicker we do, the quicker we go back to HQ. If we apply ourselves, I see this takin' three days to get through. Deepground has cleared outta here, there's no Remnants here, and there's likely as not no fuckin' people here at all. We don't even post WRO members here anymore. We might find a scrounger or two lookin' through here for scraps, but they won't give us any guff. Keep your head and this'll be a breeze."

My pep talk has an effect, and I think it's a good one, and Avery steps out of the car with a more professional face on. I lead her into the ruins, sidestepping rubble that has collapsed over the path that got cleared out a few years ago so that we could get into the place with troops. All I can hope for as we start meandering through the haphazard remains of streets that used to be bustling with life, is that I didn't lie to her when I said this would be a breeze.


	5. Triumph

**(sorry for the delay in posting this, I had some personal stuff come up (and I got distracted by a new smartphone))**

_**Tseng's POV**_

* * *

It's been a few days since I sent them out to Midgar and, thankfully, Reno's been giving me regular updates on their status though I didn't ask him to. Every few hours I get a text letting me know exactly how pointless Reno thinks the assignment is and that they're doing just fine. He doesn't say that they're fine, but the messages he sends lead me to believe that that is true.

I knew that they were safe, albeit bored, when Reno sent a picture of a skeletal hand he'd rearranged into a 'thumbs up' position. While I disapproved of the morbid manipulation, I still found myself smiling a little. That was the first afternoon.

The next night, while I was trying to cook dinner, I got another message. This time, Reno had taken a picture of Avery asleep in a pew of the church. They'd made fairly good progress to be on the outskirts of Sector Five by their second night, but I wondered if they were looking hard enough while I ate.

Today,I get a call from Avery. I had been getting a few pictures and messages from Reno throughout the day that had me believing everything was going just as smoothly as it had been since the outset.

Now, when I flip my phone open, I assume that Reno's taking a selfie with another corpse and that she's finally going to tell me her thoughts on the matter.

I don't expect to hear her hiccupping and sobbing on the other end.

"Avery, breathe. What's going on? I need facts, not hysterics." I keep my voice calm and even manage to remain in my seat, though I've cracked the pen in my hand with the effort.

_"I-I sh-shot him!" _

She's still sobbing and bawling on the other end, but through the static and tears, the message is received. I grit my teeth together, trying to keep any panic out of my voice. "Is he dead?"

There's a rustling on the other end and Reno's voice interrupts the sobbing. I sigh in relief as I hear him begin chewing her out and my grip on the pen relaxes, pieces of cracked off plastic falling onto my desk.

_"Dammit, Avery! I told ya not to call him!" _His voice comes through a little louder when he's won the phone. _"Hey, bossman. How's the weather?"_

"What happened?" I haven't got time for his nonsense and, if he's bleeding, he could be short on time as well.

_"Well, we caught the guy. Can we leave it at that for a minute?"_I don't answer and he gets the hint, sighing into the receiver. _"We found a dude who thought we were comin' up to buy, he was high as hell, I tried to cuff him, he started runnin' and pulled a gun, I cast Pyramid, Avery's bullet ricocheted and hit me and his bullet ricocheted and he hit himself. It's just a graze, man."_

I hear Avery in the background, her voice high pitched and irritating. The girl is obviously still panicking. _ "The whole bullet went into your arm you asshole! Don't lie!"_

"_Fine, fine, she got me good. An inch to the left and I wouldn't be bleedin' right now, but that's just my luck I suppose. We'll be home in time for dinner, Tsengy-poo, bring pizza! Kisses!"_

The line goes dead and I know better than to try and call back. Reno won't answer either phone now, not with one arm bleeding and his hands full of Avery and a captive. I think for a moment about going into Midgar myself to bring them out, but I know better. I have no idea where they are in there and I would just end up causing problems by getting lost myself. Instead, I gather a small medical team from the WRO and we make our way to the closest entrance to Midgar. I lean on Reno's car, arms crossed over my chest, and take a brief moment to wonder over how I should receive them. Avery might still be unprofessionally sobbing, but I doubt that Reno will still be bleeding. He has Restore materia on hand and he'll have improperly sealed up the wound, I'm sure of it.

I'm worrying a little bit more when it starts getting dark with no sign of them. My phone hasn't rung at all, so I know that Reno is still conscious enough to keep Avery from their cells, but that doesn't make me feel any better. My Second has a bad habit of blowing serious injuries off like they're nothing. If he gets a papercut, he's going to let the entire world know about it and he'll whine like a brat, but if I stabbed him he'd probably try to shrug it off.

The medical team is getting restless, if their whispers and shifting is any indication, but I don't budge. Reno's car is going to have an imprint of my ass on the hood if he doesn't hurry up and come back.

About the time the sun has set, we hear movement and shouting in the rubble in front of us. I breathe a sigh of relief and straighten up, walking forward to help the strange, multi-legged shape that's stumbling down the poorly lit path. The med team turns on their headlights, illuminating the odd group.

"Dammit, ya prick, I said to quit fuckin' kickin' me!" Reno's swearing and shouting, tugging their captive along behind him with one arm. Avery is trying to help, but their captive is thrashing quite a bit and, after her friendly fire, she seems deflated and unconfident in her assistance. All three are bloody and haggard looking, though relatively sound.

I approach and grab their captive by his free arm, glad to see that they managed to get cuffs on him after all. "Both of you go to the medics. I'll get him the rest of the way."

Reno shoots me a look that's a mixture of relief and wounded pride, but he releases the man into my care. Avery scrambles past the two of us to get to the medics, her hands shaking violently. I grab the brunette by the neck, placing a gun to his temple, and he walks a lot more cooperatively after that. I get him into the back of the med truck without any more troubles and surrender him over to sedatives and tie downs.

"Reno, I said go to the medics." He is fumbling with his keys, trying to get into his car.

"I'm fine, man! I already healed it up!" He's favoring his left arm, despite his attempts to make it seem like he's perfectly alright.

"You get the bullet out?"

There's a bit of silence before he answers me with a grumbling sigh. "Fine, I'll go with the damn parasites. Make sure my baby gets home." For a second I think that he's talking about Avery and I raise an eyebrow, but he tosses me his keys and I catch the message.

"I'll drive her back to HQ safely. Promise." I can't help but smile because he's stubbornly trudging to the med truck, dragging his feet in the dirt like a toddler going to bed early. He even has his lower lip sticking out. It's ridiculous, to be sure, but not an unexpected response.

"Alright, so what's the full story of this one?" I ask, arms crossed over my chest. We've made it back to HQ and I've pulled both of them into my office.

Reno is temperamental and slightly loopy after having the bullet removed from his arm and field dressed. He acts like stitches and a sling are the worst thing that has ever happened to him. "I already told ya on the phone!"

Avery is still struggling not to cry, her knees pulled up to her chest. She's sitting on the couch and sniffling occasionally. I want to slap her everytime I hear the snotty sounds. They're disgusting. She's contributed nothing to the story at all since they got back.

"So you approached the man, he tried to sell you drugs, and then you tried to apprehend him? That's it?" I find that hard to believe. Reno doesn't work that way.

He shuffles a little and sits, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, so maybe there's a little more detail than that." I steeple my fingers in front of me, waiting for elaboration. He sighs and starts spilling his guts.

"Aight, here's what went down. Ave and I were wanderin' through Sector Four and finally found some damn signs of life that didn't just turn out to be a bunch of rats or hedgehog pies. We followed them and found the dude we brought back in some rundown as shit house smokin' weed or somethin'. He saw my tatts and thought I was part of the gang he was sellin' to and so he tried to sell me the Fantasy. Apparently someone from Cressida's little gang was scheduled to come buy it off him-"

"I thought Cressida was dead?" I interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

"That makes two of us, man. Didn't think I'd hafta deal with that tramp again." He shakes his head, rubbing his cheek lightly. Reno had been working for Cressida years ago when Legend brought him in and I was content to let the two of them handle our dealings with her at the time. Since her base of operations was in Midgar, it was assumed that she had died under plate like most everyone else. It's a little surprising that an old problem like her would surface again without our knowledge.

He continues with the story, letting his hand drop back to tap his fingers against his thigh. "Anyways, he thought I was Cressida's so he was gonna sell it to me. I agreed and tried to cuff him when he turned around, so he thought I was tryin' ta steal it from him and started runnin'. Avery and I chased him and he pulled a gun. I cast Pyramid so he'd hit shoot his own damn self, but Avery had already pulled out her piece and shot at him. I got hit and so did he. I think he was too high to notice though. Who the hell gets hit in the hip and then fuckin' kicks like a mule all the damn way out of Midgar?"

Avery had started crying again at the mention of her friendly fire and I resist the urge to snap at her. It'll only make it worse, if she's anything like Elena used to be, which so far she has been. "Alright, so it was entirely friendly fire. That's good to know. Once your man sobers up, we'll interrogate him. Avery, you haven't seen an interrogation yet, so I need you to sit through it with us quietly." I glare at her and her sniffles stop immediately. I stifle a sigh of relief, turning back to Reno. "Is there anything else? Besides the fact that you went through Midgar mishandling corpses and writing swear words on every piece of paper you came across?"

"I didn't write swears on all of them. Only the ones too far gone to be folded into airplanes, man." Reno smiles and Avery giggles a little. I wish he were lying, but I know he probably shot airplanes off of every building he could crawl onto. He's a five year old at heart. In some ways that is endearing; in other ways it's damned annoying.

"Answer the question, Reno." I can't help but smile a little at his childishness.

"Nothin' else to report. It's the same as we left it, just more rat filled and less Deepground-ey." He stands, pointing to his arm. "Have I got permission to heal this over now, bossman? I hate stitches. I don't wanna be out till this fucker heals."

"No, Reno." I shake my head, wondering if I'll have to order him to let it heal naturally. "You can't just magic away every injury you ever get. It isn't good for you and you know it." He groans loudly and sits back down with a loud plop and a creak of protest from my chair. It's unhealthy to keep the body from utilizing its natural defenses to pain and sickness. If I have to, which I hate to admit but I probably will have to, I will let him heal it, but I'd prefer not to. I can't afford to have one of my best Turks out for a few weeks, especially since I only have six Turks on hand at all. It's been hard to recover from the damage of the past few years and any recruits we've had have all been sent to the WRO unless they show extreme promise in their training, like Avery and Lee did.

"Do I still get pizza?" The puppy dog eyes he tries to shoot me with are going to get him slapped someday.

"Buy your own pizza, Reno." With our haphazard little triumph of catching the perp, we got back to business as usual. Avery's tears dry up and are replaced with giggles and Reno keeps pestering me about damn food until I order them both out of my office.

They are talking loudly when they leave, Reno trying to get Avery to buy him pizza as recompense for having shot him in the arm. He'll probably get her to agree to do it for him, though we all know he's got more than enough money to buy his own damn pizza. Once their voices have trailed away, I pull out my phone, dialing Rufus' number to fill him in on everything that has happened.


	6. Feel

**6. Feel**

_**Reno's POV**_

* * *

My arm throbs with pain as the painkillers I was given in the medical truck wear off, leaving me gritting my teeth as I try to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Pain isn't new for me, I've dealt with far worse than this, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to be left tossing and turning as my arm protests every angle I keep it at.

It doesn't take long for me to give up on sleep for the night.

Cigarette ash drops onto my bare leg and I swear, brushing the heat away from my skin. I've got the television on, the reporter on the screen telling me an abridged version of shit I knew a week ago. The news is a helluva lot less interesting when you're part of the group that decides what should and shouldn't be public knowledge. Should the masses know that Deepground forces raided another farm outside Junon? Yeah, that's something they can worry about. Should they know that the only possible survivors of the raid are the three children of the couple who are being held hostage? Should they know that these aren't the first children Deepground has grabbed from their homes and started training since their normal recruiting methods are no longer available, seeing as they don't have SOLDIERS bringing half-dead men and women for sick bastards like Hojo to alter and swell their ranks with? No. No they really don't need to know that shit. Not yet. Not until we have some sort of solution to fix it.

I change the channel to some dumb ass horror movie, plenty of fake gore and plot holes, and grab a slice of cold pizza from the box on my coffee table. Pizza and cigarettes are a pretty good mix. I'd feel better if I had some damn narcotics, but I'm not allowed to have them outside of emergency situations. My dumb ass abused too many of them early on in my career. I still wish I had them though. I feel like shit.


End file.
